


How to Be Amazing

by phanburnhamizzard



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), dan and phil
Genre: DAN AND PHIL - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Tour, interactive introverts, major character illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanburnhamizzard/pseuds/phanburnhamizzard
Summary: Phil Lester is strong.  He is amazing.  But after months on tour battling car sickness, stage fright, and fatigue, it is all becoming too much.  One night, in the middle of Interactive Introverts, Phil pushes himself to the brink.





	How to Be Amazing

As the wheel spun him around, Phil felt himself getting dizzier. He focused on one light at the back of the theater, just like Dan had told him to. The projectile hit him high in the left leg, but he didn’t much care. He just needed the wheel to stop spinning. 

Once the wheel had stopped, he quickly said his lines, stepped off the wheel, and suddenly sat down on the stage floor with a thud. Dan gave him a quick look, concerned, then immediately shifted back into “stage-Dan” mode to cover for Phil. 

“Taking a little break now, are we, Phil?” Dan joked. 

Several awkward moments passed as the room spun before Phil’s face. He felt himself turn green and his stomach lurch into his throat. He grabbed the stage floor with his hand to steady himself. 

“Yeah, you almost killed little P with that orange, Mister!” Phil managed. The audience laughed and Dan doubled over cackling. 

 

Phil had not been feeling well since the American leg of the tour started. Between the motion sickness from the tour bus, the exhaustion that had set in from the endless touring and meet and greets, and his constant battle with stage fright, Phil had lost eight pounds and had been spending quite a bit of time sleeping. 

Earlier in the day, Dan had sat down with Phil in private for a long-needed conversation. 

“Phil, if this is too much for you, I need for you to let me know. Your health is the most important thing here, and if we need to postpone or cancel some shows, then that is what is going to happen.”

“No, I’m fine,” Phil said, his pale face and tired eyes shaping themselves into a strong smile. “I’m just sleepy. I need to rest more, that’s all.”

“This is me you’re talking to,” Dan said. “Look at me, Phil. You’re not eating well, you’re carsick and racing to the bathroom more often than not, and you’re sleeping all the time. I think we need to get you to the doctor for a check.”

“I’m telling you, I’m just over-tired, Dan,” Phil said, the smile leaving his strained face. “I just—“ he stammered, “it’s just that so many people are counting on us and I don’t want to let them down.”

Dan stood up and slid round the table to share Phil’s bench seat. He put his arm around Phil’s shoulders and Phil rested his head on Dan’s chest. “Phily,” Dan began, “I know how much you’re suffering with this tour. It was hard last time and this time it seems even harder for you. I wish I knew how to help. I need you to tell me.”

“I’ll be okay,” he said. “I just need to rest more. In fact, we’ve got two hours until the meet and greet. I think I’ll go nap. Will you wake me in about 90 minutes?”

“Yeah,” Dan said, sliding out of the seat so Phil could stand. “I’ll come get you in 90 minutes. Get some Z’s.”

 

Phil lay down his his bunk and Dan ushered the rest of the crew off the bus so he could have some peace and quiet. Phil stared up at the ceiling, knowing sleep was not going to come. He closed his eyes and did some deep breathing exercises. He had to sharpen up. He had to get stronger. He had to be “AmazingPhil”. He just wasn’t sure if he could. 

90 minutes later, Dan gently pulled the curtain back and found Phil staring at the ceiling.

“Did you get any sleep, mate?”

“No,” Phil replied, groggy and puffy eyed. “It’s alright. I can do it. There are only a few more nights left on this leg of the tour.”

“Grab a quick shower and I’ll cover for you with Marianne. We’ll just start the meet and greet a bit late.”

“Alright,” Phil said as he sat up and slid down out of the bunk. Dan met his eyes and wrapped his arms around him. “My brave Phily,” Dan said as he gently rubbed Phil’s back. Phil leaned into Dan and closed his eyes with a deep sigh. “Thanks, Dan,” he heard himself say. “I’ll be alright, I promise.”

 

In the shower, he turned up the hot water and stood beneath it, working hard to wake up and get some strength. 

Since no one else was in the bus, he talked to himself aloud. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen,” he said as the water beat down on his back, “we’re going to dry off and get dressed. We’re going to have energy! We’re going to smile and pose and hug these wonderful people who watch our videos! And then we’re going to put on a great show! We’re going to be amazing!”

 

Thirty minutes later, Phil and Dan jogged into the Egyptian Gala room at the venue to startle the fans. Their screams brought them energy and Phil could feel his adrenaline surge. Good, he thought, this will help. 

After waving and joking with the crowd, they slipped behind the divider and motioned to Marianne to begin the meet and greet. 

The first fan walked up and hugged Phil tightly, giving him even more energy. “I love you, Phil,” she said as she snuggled in for a hug. Phil glanced at Dan who was giving him a supportive smile. “Aww, we love you, too!” Phil replied as he released his embrace and helped turn her towards Dan’s waiting arms. 

He turned to Marianne and took the copy TABINOF the young woman had brought for them to sign, quickly signed his name with a smiley face, then handed the book to Dan. After Dan signed, he asked, “Would you like a photo?” The young woman said, “Yes, please!” Dan took her camera and both young men scrunched down to her petite height as Dan took the picture. 

“Thank you!” She exclaimed, sneaking in another hug from both of them. “You mean so much to me, thank you so much!”

“Thank you,” they said in unison. “Bye!”

Dan looked over at Phil with his eyebrows raised. Phil nodded that he was okay, and so Dan waved to Marianne to send in the next person.

Forty-five minutes later, Marianne halted the line and passed them some bottled water. Phil sat down behind the screen and Dan crouched down beside him. 

“How are you holding up, mate?” Dan asked softly.

“I’m good,” Phil said between gulps of drink, “It’s a nice group of people tonight!” 

“Yes, very sweet!” Dan agreed. “I thought that one girl was going to kiss you full on the mouth!”

“Yeah, it’s a good thing I was tall enough to prevent that!” Phil joked. 

“I think we’re ready to go. Are you up for it?” Dan asked, gently.

“Yes,” Phil said, getting to his knees, then slowly rising to a standing position. “Let’s do this!”

 

Sixty minutes later, the meet and greet was finished and Dan and Phil were left alone in the empty venue with Marianne, David, and Tom. Tom had only had to step in once when one young woman refused to let go of Dan, but it had all been handled gently and the young woman had left smiling. 

“Let’s get you upstairs to your dressing room,” Marianne said, and Tom led the way through the back halls of the theater. 

Up in the dressing room, Phil sat down on the couch and Dan took the oversized chair. 

“Tell me what would you like for supper after the show,” Marianne said, “and I’ll get it sorted.” 

“I’m thinking Italian,” Dan said.

“I’m not hungry,” Phil said, “whatever you want is fine.”

Marianne gave Dan a worried look, then said, “I’ll get the usual, then, Dan?”

“Yes, and don’t forget the extra dipping sauces.”

Phil couldn’t hold back a giggle. “You and your dipping sauces!”

“Don’t dip shame me!” Dan shot back. 

 

After Marianne closed the door, Dan stood up and crossed the room towards the box of letters and art that the meet and greet fans had left for them. He began to sort them and turned to ask Phil if he wanted his stack, but found that Phil was slumped to the side on the couch, fast asleep. 

Dan glanced at the clock. He wondered how long he could let Phil sleep before he needed to change. He decided to give him fifteen minutes of solace. Instead of reading his letters, he placed them softly back down in the box and sat down in the chair and stared at Phil.

Both tours had been Dan’s idea. Phil loved people but the stage frightened him to the point of making him physically ill. Last tour, Phil had lost so much weight that the fans had begun to incorporate it into their fan fictions. Last tour had been different, though. Aside from feeling miserable and losing the weight, Phil had seemed stronger somehow. The gleam in his eyes had been ever present and his wit had been quick and on point. Dan wondered how much more of this tour Phil could take. The past two shows, fans had posted that Phil had seemed “off” somehow, and indeed, he had been. His bants had been slower, even though they were still funny when he finally got them out, and his smiles had become more strained. The ever-present gleam in his eyes was only there part of the time now. The meet and greet photos couldn’t hide the truth: Phil was sick and exhausted. The fans were noticing. And Dan did not know what to do about it. 

Phil stirred and opened his eyes to find Dan staring at him. “What? What time is it?” Phil asked.

“It’s about 20 minutes until first call,” Dan said. “I was just about to wake you.”

“Oh,” Phil yawned, “Okay. Thanks for letting me get a quick nap. I feel a bit better.”

Dan looked at Phil and saw no change, but nodded and lied, “You look better! Let’s get changed!”

They suited up and helped each other with the microphones and headsets, then sat down at the makeup table to sort their hair. 

“I’m so glad you got rid of your fringe, Phil,” Dan said as he combed his curly brown hair.

“Yeah, it was long overdo,” Phil agreed, applying some gel to his newly acquired quiff. 

“You look younger, honestly,” Dan said. 

“I don’t feel younger,” Phil heard himself say bitterly. 

Dan whipped his head to look at Phil in the mirror.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Where did that come from?” Dan asked.

“I don’t know. It just came out. Don’t put any weight to it. I’m fine,” Phil said.

“Oookaaay,” Dan said. 

A knock came at the door, “Places, please!”

“We’ll be right out!” Dan called, then turned in his chair and looked at Phil.

“You got this tonight,” Dan said, confidently.

“Oh yeah,” Phil said. “Except I’ve forgotten it all.”

It was their TATINOF joke.

“Yeah, me too,” Dan agreed. “Let’s just make it up as we go along!”

“Okay!” Phil laughed. 

Dan smiled. Phil was going to be okay.

 

Backstage, they could hear the fans screaming and singing along to the playlist Dan had painstakingly created, and saw the iPhone torches swaying to “The Black Parade”. 

“Great group!” Dan mouthed to Phil.

“They are hyped!” Phil mouthed back. 

 

They took their places mid stage and dropped their arms to their sides, looked down at their feet, and waited for the stage to move.

It was in these few moments, when the mics were live, communication between them was no longer possible, and the crowd was mere feet away, that Phil’s stage fright was always at its worst. He felt alone and afraid. He was only one man, he thought, why were all these people screaming? What did they want from him? What if he didn’t give it to them? 

No, he thought to himself, you will be amazing. Be Amazing! 

The stage lurched forward, the lights hit them, and the crowd went wild, filling his ears with high pitched screams. 

He felt the adrenaline surge throughout his body as the warm spot light enveloped him in a warm, protective sphere.

He said his line over the screams of the crowd, and then jumped down off the platform and ran across the stage, waving at the first five rows that he could see, then up to the darkness of the balcony and out to the back of the house. 

Running across the stage and seeing Dan completely come to life in the spotlight gave him energy. He forgot his fatigue, he forgot his anxiety, and he felt himself transform from Phil Lester to AmazingPhil.

 

By the time it was nearing intermission, he had hit his stride. He was ad-libbing and bantering, countering Dan’s every quip with one of his own. He felt the tingles of the electro-shock gadget in his hand and let them bring him energy instead of fear. 

As he stood by the wheel listening to Dan lecture the audience about “real consequences” he felt more alive than he had in months. 

He waved to the crowd as the stage retracted, the spot lights darkened, and the house lights came up.

And then he passed out. 

“Oh my God!” Dan exclaimed as Phil’s body slumped down onto the stage floor. 

Instantly, Dan bolted across the stage and knelt at Phil’s side, cradling his head in his lap. 

“Lift his legs!” Dan directed. A crew member lifted Phil’s legs above his heart to help get circulation back to his brain. 

Slowly, Phil regained consciousness. He opened his eyes in narrow slits to find Dan’s warm brown eyes meeting his.

“What happened?” He asked, groggily. Dan was a welcome palate of warm blurs and tones to his tired eyes.

“You fainted, Phil, but you’re alright now.” 

“Oh. Okay,” Phil managed. “I feel funny.”

Then Phil closed his eyes and heard a mixture of Dan’s serious tone ordering someone to find a nurse or physician in the crowd, and his soft voice encouraging him to open his eyes. 

When he opened his eyes again, there was a kind looking gentleman kneeling over him with a stethoscope. “I think he’s exhausted. Needs fluids. Might have a bug as well. We should get him over to the hospital for some tests.”

“No!” Phil heard himself exclaim, and everyone got quiet. 

He repeated, “No,” in a calmer tone. “No, I’m okay. I’ll drink some water. I just need to get ready for the second act.’

 

“Phil,” Dan began slowly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“No, really, I need to get ready. I’m on the wheel next,” he said, pushing up into a sitting position, “and I need to get changed.” 

“What is this wheel?” The physician asked.

“It’s a revolving wheel where we shoot props at each other as it spins around.”

“No,” the physician declared. “No, you should not spin around. Your blood pressure is too low.”

Phil, usually one to acquiesce, put his foot down. “Thank you for your help, Doctor, but I have to finish the show. People drove in and flew here and have spent a lot of money. I’ll drink some water and I’ll be fine.” 

Dan hesitated, then said, “Why don’t I do the wheel this time? No one will know the difference and I think spinning upside down wouldn’t be the best for you, Phil.”

“I can do it. Just shoot fast.” Phil got to his feet with Dan’s help and shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you, Sir,” he said. “I’m alright now.” 

The doctor looked at Phil dubiously, but said, “Alright, son, if you think you can do it. But do hydrate and take it easy. Here is my card. Call me after the show if you need me. I have admitting rights to the hospital two miles down the road. I do think you need some IV fluids and a few blood tests.”

“Yes, Sir,” Phil said, taking the card and handing it to Marianne, who had just run up. “And thank you again!”

Phil turned and slowly began to walk towards the backstage area to suit up for the wheel. 

 

As he put on the white cover-ups, he took some deep breaths. Dan allowed him his privacy and didn’t say anything as they prepared for the second act. 

Once he was suited up and had donned the protective glasses he climbed onto the wheel and belted himself in snugly. Dan double checked the belt, then took his place alongside the wheel, awaiting their cue. 

Phil was trembling. The entire wheel was shaking. Dan looked at Phil and patted him on the shoulder. Their mics were live, so he mouthed, “You can do this,” to Phil.

Phil nodded and gave a small grin. 

Suddenly, the stage lurched forward and the spotlight hit Phil.

“No!” He squealed in a fearful voice, “Not me! Don’t do it!”

“Hahaha!” Dan cackled, “Yes! The people have spoken, Phil! This is what they wanted, and they wanted to sacrifice YOU!” 

Dan went to the trunk and pulled out a slingshot and an orange. 

“Oh God!” Phil shrieked, overacting a bit but pulling it off. 

Dan took careful aim, taunted Phil for a few moments, then hit him in the upper left thigh. 

“Ow!” Phil yelped. The crowd gasped and applauded. Dan doubled over laughing. 

“Okay, we’re done, right?” Phil begged, “No more. It’s over?!”

Dan shook his head, ‘Oh no, Philip Lester! We’ve only just begun!” Dan then took out the bow and arrow and the wheel started rotating side to side. 

Phil went pale, but kept the act up. “Oh God! Don’t do it!”

Dan took quick aim and hit Phil on the shoulder. 

“Ow! Stop! Call the police! I’m only young!” Phil improvised.

Dan cackled. “Oh, you’ve not seen the worst, Phil,” he said, pulling a bazooka out of the trunk. 

The wheel turned and Phil was rotated in a full circle. Dan saw Phil go pale. He skipped his line and took quick aim and shot. He missed Phil completely, and then gave the cue for the wheel to stop. 

Once the wheel had stopped, Phil quickly said his lines, stepped off the wheel, and then sat down on the stage floor with a thud. Dan gave him a quick look, concerned, then immediately shifted back into “stage-Dan” mode to cover for Phil. 

“Taking a little break now, are we, Phil?” Dan joked. 

Several awkward moments passed as the room spun before Phil’s face. He felt himself turn green and his stomach lurch into his throat. He grabbed the stage floor with his hand to steady himself. The set felt cool to his warm hand. 

“Yeah, you almost killed little P with that orange, Mister!” Phil managed. The audience laughed and Dan doubled over cackling. 

“Little P?” Dan echoed, “You’ve named it, have you? I’m so sorry you had to hear that, you guys!”

Phil just looked at Dan, imploring him to stick to the script. He could not think of another thing to say. His focus was on not vomiting and not passing out. He wanted to feel the coolness of the set on his face. The last thing he had any energy for was improvising.

Dan quickly moved on to his next lines and Phil heard himself respond correctly, if a bit slowly, to his cues.

The time came for Phil’s rap, and he finally stood up from the stage and took the mic from Dan. He slipped on the shades and tapped into the last bit of energy he had.

“My name is Phil Lester,” he began, jumping down from the ledge to the stage floor. He landed with a thud that shook his spine. 

Phil was in another world in his mind. He heard himself rapping and felt himself moving around the stage, but he did not know what he was doing. It felt more like a dream than a live performance. 

“Be amazing!” He kept saying to himself. “Be strong!” 

By the time Dan’s piano came out and he crawled up to sit atop it, he was using all of his focus to remember the words to the song. 

He slid down off of the piano and walked to the front of the stage to take his bow, then waved and slowly walked back to the piano ledge, climbed up and leaned all his weight on it. “Just let the lights go out,” he thought to himself. “Please.”

The set retracted and the curtain came down and the spotlight turned off. Dan was at Phil’s side and holding him up before Phil realized he was falling. 

The room was spinning, his vision was a tunnel of light surrounded by sparkling black, and he was hot. So very hot. 

“Lie down, Phil,” Dan said. 

Phil wanted nothing more than to lie down, so he let Dan lower him to the cool stage floor. 

Dan was above him. He felt pressure on his hand. He realized it was Dan’s hand holding his. Everything was disjointed. Nothing felt real. He heard Dan’s voice but could not make out the words, so he just focused on enjoying the tones as he stared into Dan’s face. Dan’s worried face. What was Dan worried about? Didn’t he see the pretty lights? Didn’t he feel the cool stage floor? Everything was fine. Everything was beautiful. Everything was fuzzy and shiny and colorful. Then everything was dark. 

 

 

Dan went into command mode, ordering the crew to grab cushions and blankets and a cold cloth for Phil’s head. Marianne had the physician’s card and was dialing her iPhone. Dan cradled Phil’s limp head in his lap as he waited for the cushions and found that his friend was completely unresponsive. Dan fought panic. “Is he breathing?” Dan asked. Marianne leaned down and rested her head on Phil’s chest. 

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, he is breathing. I feel his heart beating as well.”

The cushions arrived and Dan placed the softest one in his lap and gently rested Phil’s head atop it. Dan directed that the remaining cushions be stacked under Phil’s legs. 

Dan grabbed the cool, wet cloth and began patting down Phil’s forehead, neck and face to bring down the heat that was radiating off his friend’s body. 

“I need another cloth!” Dan yelled over the exit music, and Tom quickly ran offstage to get one. 

Dan leaned over Phil and spoke loudly but gently to him, “Phil? Phil, I need you to wake up for me. Open your eyes, mate.”

No response. 

“Phily,” Dan said, not caring who heard, “Phily, it’s Bear. Look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.” 

Phil did not move. 

Dan fought hard to keep down his inner panic. He had to be strong for Phil. He had to be strong for the rest of the crew. Inside, though, he was falling apart. 

Moments later, the doctor raced up and knelt next to Phil. He checked for breathing, then assessed his pulse. He opened Phil’s eye and shined a light into it, checking the response of his pupil. He felt his forehead and echoed Dan’s request for more cold cloths. 

He whipped out his phone and called 911.

“How old is he?” He asked Dan. 

“Thirty-one,” Dan heard himself say. 

“This is Doctor Thorson,” the physician said calmly but rapidly after 911 picked up on the other end ”I’m at the Atlanta Fox Theater on stage with an unresponsive thirty-one year old male. I need an ambulance. He is dyspneic, fevered, pupils are reactive but sluggish, pulse is 114, and pressure is 85/40. “

Dan’s jaw had dropped. This could not be happening. He felt Marianne’s hands on his shoulders. He saw Tom race up with several cold cloths and apply them to Phil’s face. He watched as the doctor ripped Phil’s shirt open and began placing the cloths on his chest to cool him. He heard David ordering the stage manager to open the loading bay doors for the ambulance team. He felt tears spill over his bottom lids and run down his trembling cheeks. 

On the other side of the screen, jubilant fans were taking pictures by the stage and dancing to the outro music, completely unaware of the drama occurring mere feet away. 

 

“Let go, son,” the physician was saying gently but firmly to Dan. 

Dan shook his head.

The doctor took him by the shoulders and said, “Let go, Dan. Let the experts help your friend. That’s a good lad.”

Dan slowly let the paramedic remove his hands from Phil’s head and suddenly, the weight of Phil was gone from his lap as they lifted him onto the stretcher. 

Dan was on his feet and following the stretcher into the flashing lights by the stage bay doors. 

The physician jumped into the back of the ambulance and offered Dan a hand. There was no question about whether he was coming or not. 

“Now you sit right here, son, and just keep talking to him,” the doctor directed at an empty seat near Phil’s head. 

Dan’s white shirt clung to him and he was shaking with both cold and fear. His voice broke as he tried to speak to Phil. He tried again and nothing came out. He had to be strong. He had to find the strength somewhere inside. He was drained from the show and from fear, but his was the only familiar voice in the sea of medical sounds and strange voices that Phil might respond to. He had to do this. 

“Phil,” his broken voice, barely audible, began, “Phily, baby, I’m here. I—I want you to open your eyes, Phil,” he said. “Please?” Tears spilled down his soaked cheeks. “Please, baby? Listen to me. You’re going to hospital, Phily. You’ve fallen down, but you’re going to be alright. Can you hear me?

“That’s good, son,” the doctor encouraged, “Just keep on talking to him, you’re doing a good job.” 

Dan glanced down and saw wires on Phil’s chest and a blood pressure cuff around his arm. A monitor was beeping and showing lots of numbers and lines, and a paramedic was sticking a needle into Phil’s vein.

“It’s just to get some fluids into him,” the doctor said, “nothing to worry about. Keep talking to him, Dan.”

“Okay, Phil,” Dan said, finding a strength he didn’t realize he had, “they are watching your heart and you may have felt some pain as they put a needle in your arm and that’s just to put some fluids back into you. You’re doing great. You’re just really tired, aren’t you? That’s alright,” he said, stroking Phil’s hair, “you’re alright Phil,” 

One of the paramedics said, “I need you to move your hands for just a sec,” as he placed an oxygen mask over Phil’s face and strapped it behind his head. “Okay, you’re good,” he said. 

Dan resumed stroking Phil’s hair and felt the ambulance slow as it approached the hospital. 

“Things are going to happen quickly now, son,” the kind physician explained, “you’ll be directed to the waiting area and we’ll head back to the Emergency Department. Is he allergic to anything?”

“Milk,” Dan said. 

“Any medicines?” The doctor pressed.

“Oh, um, no, I don’t think so,” Dan said.

“Okay, we’ll take good care of him and we’ll update you periodically on how he’s doing. We just need to run some tests now, okay?”

“Okay,” Dan said. “Phil,” he said, grabbing his best friend’s hand, “they are going to do some tests. You’re at hospital. I’ll be —“he choked back a sob ”—I’ll be in the waiting area and they’ll come get me soon, okay? You be strong, Phily. Be strong.”

He felt Phil’s limp hand roughly pulled out of his as the stretcher was unloaded from the ambulance and raced into the emergency department. 

Suddenly, he was completely alone. He curled up in the corner seat and began to sob. 

 

“Come this way,” a gentle voice said, “I’ll take you to the waiting room.”

Dan wiped his face with the back of his hand, “Okay,” he managed. 

He stepped down out of the ambulance and was led to a waiting room filled with families and friends. They all looked up as he came in, then, realizing he was not bringing them news of their loved one, looked back down again. 

“Sit here and they will let you know what’s going on as soon as they can, okay?”

“Okay,” Dan said, “Thank you.”

He sat in a plastic chair and put his head in his hands. His phone started to buzz and he startled. He pulled it out of his pocket. It was Marianne. 

“Hi,” he said.

“We’re on the road, where is the hospital?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” Dan said. “Um,” he looked around, “It’s called ‘Mercy Medical’ I think. I’m in the emergency waiting room. They already took him back.” 

“Okay, we’re on the way.” Marianne said, and then more gently said, “How is he?”

“I don’t know. He’s just—He’s not moving or awake. He’s really hot. They didn’t say. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” she said. “I don’t know if it would be better if I called Katherine or if you did.”

“I will,” he heard himself say. “I’ll do it now.” 

He hung up and dialed Katherine. 

“Kath?” He said, his voice breaking.

“Dan? Son, what ever is the matter?”

“It’s just, it’s just that Phil passed out twice tonight and we’re at hospital and they are doing tests on him and he isn’t awake yet.”

Katherine was understandably startled and upset, but was surprisingly strong for Dan. “Phil’s a strong man, Dan. He’ll fight hard. Don’t you worry about that.”

“Yes, yes he is,” Dan said, the tears coming again. “I’m so sorry! This is all my fault,” he said as he felt himself begin to break down. 

“Stop that,” Katherine scolded. “Stop that nonsense now, lad. Now, you straighten up. None of this blaming yourself business, you hear? I want you to do two things for me. I want you to get me the telephone number to the hospital, and then I want you to call your Nan.”

“Okay,” Dan said. Having something to do made him feel a bit less lost. He looked around and found a placard with the hospital’s number and read it to her. He promised to keep in touch and hung up. 

He called his Nan and she echoed Katherine’s sentiments. “Now Daniel, Phil is a grown man who can make his own decisions. I’m sure he’ll be fine and you know he’s not going to blame you for anything because it isn’t your fault.”

“But, I—“

“But nothing, lad,” she said, “taking responsibility for something that isn’t your fault won’t help Phil, now will it?”

“No,” Dan said.

“Being there and being a good friend to him will help him. That’s what you’re doing and what you’re going to do, right?”

“Yes,” Dan answered. 

“Then you are doing all that you can, Dan.” 

“It isn’t enough,” Dan cried softly into the phone.

“It’s got to be enough,” she said firmly. “It will be.” 

“Nan, I can’t live without him.” 

“I know, sweetie,” she said, softly, “I know.”

He heard footsteps and saw Marianne, Tom, and David looking for him.

“I’ve got to go. Thank you, Nan.”

“I love you, Daniel.”

“I love you too, Nan,” he said. 

 

 

“Have you heard anything?” Marianne asked, handing Dan a tissue.

“No, we just got here and they took him right back. They said they’d let me know.”

“Okay, let’s get you out of that soaking shirt,” Marianne said, taking control. She handed Dan a clean shirt and walked him to the restroom. “Have you called Mrs. Lester?” 

“Yes,” Dan answered.

“That must have been hard. Now off with you, get changed and wash your face.”

“But what if—“

“We’ll get you if they come out. Now go change,” Marianne commanded.

Dan nodded, took the shirt, and walked into the bathroom. It was nicely decorated with soothing colors and pictures of flowering plants. 

He pulled off his shirt, wetted some paper towels in the sink with cool water, and soaked his face. Then he wiped down his chest and back and slipped on the clean shirt. 

He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked terrible. His eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks were splotched red and white, and his lips were swollen from biting them. 

He rested his hands on the counter and took three deep breaths. Phil was going to be okay. He just overdid it. He was going to make it through this and everything would go back to being the same. 

He told himself that over and over again, though deep down he did not believe it. He feared the worst: some unimaginable disease or condition that would take Phil from him forever. How would he tell Katherine? How would he survive? How could he live without Phil?

 

He wiped his face down again and then pressed the cool cloth on his face for about three minutes to lower the swelling. He breathed in the cool air and tried to settle his mind. He remembered their first trip to Jamaica. He remembered that scary night in Emergency when he had had to have surgery and Phil comforted him. He remembered all the silly arguments and that one serious fight. How he regretted them now. How he wished he could hold Phil in his arms and never let him go. How he already missed that silly, creative, perfect spark of life that loved Dan as much as he loved him back. 

Dan took a deep breath and made himself stand tall, then walked out of the bathroom. He could tell there had been no news by the looks of worry on the crews’ faces. 

He sat down and took out his phone and automatically pulled up Phil in his text app. He started to dismiss it, but instead, he began to type. 

Hey. 

Goofy.

Wake up.

Stop being lazy!

I miss you.

 

“Dan?”

“Yes?” He heard himself say as he stood, his eyes wide with fear.

Marianne placed her hand on his back and Tom and David stood close.

“Follow me, please, the doctor would like to speak with you in a private room.”

“Can we come?” Marianne asked. 

“Uh, sure,” the nurse said, “If it’s alright with Dan.”

“Yes,” Dan said quickly, and the nurse ushered them into the private room off to the side of the Emergency Department. 

“Dr. Thorson,” Dan said as they walked in, “how is he? What’s happening?”

“Have a seat, please,” the doctor said. 

Dan sat down and gazed up at the doctor, who remained standing. 

“Phil is in stable condition,” he began. “He appears to be suffering from a stomach bug on top of severe exhaustion and moderate heat exhaustion. He is dehydrated, which lead to the heat exhaustion. His temp was up to 103’F and we have him slowly cooling now, with meds on board and an IV drip to rehydrate him. He needs to be kept calm so he doesn’t go into shock, so only one visitor at a time and when you do go in, keep your voice low.”

 

Dan swallowed hard. Marianne was rubbing his back. 

“Thank you, Doctor Thorson,” Dan said. “When can I see him?”

“I can take you back there now,” the doctor said. 

“I’ll call Mrs. Lester,” Marianne said, “and give her an update.” 

“Thank you,” Dan said, standing up and following the doctor. 

He was led through some back halls and to the ICU and to the nurses station. 

On the left, the doctor slowed down and spoke in a low voice, “This is Marcus, Phil’s nurse,” he said, “he’ll help you from here, okay, Dan?”

“Okay, thank you,” Dan said, numbly. The room was getting blurry from his welled up tears. 

Marcus took Dan’s hands, “Hi Dan. I’m Marcus. Phil is doing really well. His temp is down to 100 and he’s resting more comfortably now. The lights are low and you’ll need to keep your voice low too so you don’t startle him, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, you’re going to hear some beeps and see some flashing lights and some wires. That’s all so I can monitor him closely and it’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Okay.”

“Now, I want you to take three deep breaths with me.”

“Okay.”

And together, they breathed in and out three times. The tears spilled down his cheeks and he could see Marcus clearly for the first time. 

“Now, let’s get you some tissue,” Marcus said, letting go of Dan’s hands. 

Dan wiped his face and then Marcus led him into the darkened room.

Phil was in a slightly inclined position, his head rotated a bit to the left. Dan walked around to his left and stared at him like he was an untouchable treasure. 

“I’ll be outside if you need me, okay Dan?” Marcus said, rubbing Dan’s back.

“Okay. Thank you,” he said, never taking his eyes off of Phil.

Marcus left the room and pulled the curtain so Dan and Phil could have some privacy.

Dan walked closer to the bed and leaned into it, taking Phil’s left hand into his. It still felt hot, but less so than before, which Dan felt comforting.

He let several minutes pass and just let himself feel Phil’s hand in his own.

He made sure his voice was calm and then said, “Phil?”

Phil’s breathing was smooth and slow. The monitor beeped rhythmically. 

“Phil?” Dan repeated softly. “Phil, it’s Dan. You’re in hospital. You finished the show and did a great job and then you got a little sick, but they are taking care of you now.”

Dan stared at Phil’s square shoulders, sticking out from his loose hospital gown. He reached up and covered them. 

“I miss you,” Dan said. “I wish I could talk with you. I want to hear your voice.” He squeezed Phil’s hand gently.

“But I know you need your rest. I’m just glad you’re going to be okay.” 

He felt Phil squeeze his hand back very softly.

“Phily? I can feel you squeeze my hand. That’s good. You’re doing very well! I’m proud of you!” 

Phil took a slow and deep breath, then opened his eyes. 

“Hi Phil!” Dan said softly.

“Dan?”

“Yes, it’s Dan, Phily. I’m right here.”

“Dan?” Phil said groggily, “I need to get changed for the show. I didn’t sleep at all.”

“Phil, you did the show and you were great!”

“I what?” Phil croaked. “I— I remember lying down for a nap and then ….hey, where am I?”

“You’re in hospital, Phil. You’re alright. You did the show, but you had a stomach bug and were dehydrated, so you got heat exhaustion. You passed out twice. So you’re in ICU now getting medicine and fluids and you’re going to be just fine.”

“I passed out?”

“Twice.”

“On stage?”

“No,” Dan said, “backstage, after the first act, then after the show.”

“I don’t remember,” Phil said.

“Well, I do!” Dan said, with a gentle laugh. 

Phil made an attempt at a grin.

“Phil, you were so strong. I don’t know how you carried on.”

Phil blinked a few times and opened up his eyes more fully. Dan came into focus in front of him.

“Oh God,” Phil said. “Are you okay?”

Dan realized he must still look terrible, “Yes, I’m okay, Phil. Just a bit worried is all.”

“I’m sorry, Dan,” Phil said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I know, Phily,” Dan said, ‘It’s not your fault, okay? Don’t worry at all.”

“Alright,” Phil said. “Just promise to stop crying, okay?”

Dan laughed, “Okay, I promise”. 

 

Marcus pulled back the curtain. “Well, look who is awake?!” He said gently. “I’m Marcus, and I’m your nurse. How are you feeling?”

“Tired and cold,” Phil said.

“Good! That’s just how you should be feeling,” Marcus said. “We’re cooling you off slowly with chilled IV fluids, so that’s why you feel cold. We didn’t expect you to wake up until tomorrow!” Marcus declared as he checked the monitors. 

“You didn’t factor in,” Dan said, “that this guy is amazing.”

Phil laughed and rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll step out and call your mum, okay?” Dan said.

“That’s a good idea,” said Marcus, “and you can come back in about 30 minutes after I give this amazing guy his bath and do my assessment, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“Dan?” Phil called out.

“Yes, Phil?” Dan said, racing back to his bedside.

“How was the show?”

Dan laughed. “It was great, Phil. You were amazing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my AMAZING beta, cloechecksmyflow!


End file.
